Aftermath
by GhostDog401
Summary: All three of them came back from that year changed, maybe for the better, but probably for the worse. All three of them came back broken and bent, while ever one else forgotten and was fixed [Aftermath for The Year That Never Was]


**Aftermath**

**Characters: **Jack Harkness, Martha Jones, Tenth Doctor, Owen Harper, Martha's Family  
><strong>~Pairings: <strong>Nothing Specified  
><strong>Word Count: <strong>1, 402  
><strong>Note: <strong>For Jack it takes place after _Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang_**  
><strong>For Martha it takes place after _The Last of the Time Lords__  
><em>For the Doctor it takes place after _Voyage of the Damned__  
><em>

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><p><strong>For Shadowntr who wanted an extension of Chapter 92 from my 100 Worded Stories collection<strong>

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><p><strong>Jack<strong>

When Jack comes back, he comes back different, nobody notices at first, but when they do they don't say anything.

They don't mention it, they don't tell anyone, for no team wants to admit that their leader is slowly breaking apart, even if it's true.

…

Owen begins to tap his pencil against his desk absentmindedly, all the while sneering at the latest bunch of paperwork thrown his way.

_One, two, three, four._

_One, two, three four._

_One, two, three, four._

"Stop it," Jack's voice floats into Owen's ears and the doctor looks up.

"Why should I?" He sneers.

"Because it's annoying," Jack speaks harshly, venomously, as if all his problems were coming from the simple beat produced by Owen's pencil

Owen mouth forms into a tight frown, his eyes narrowing.

This man can't tell him what to do. This was the man that had left them for three months. He had left them alone to fend for themselves against aliens they knew _nothing_ about. He has no authority here…not anymore.

He raises the pencil he's holding and begins to tap, if only to annoy the captain. Childish? Probably. Satisfying? Completely…or at least it was at first.

_One, two, three, four._

_One, two, three, four._

If Owen had been paying attention, really close attention, he might've noticed the way Jack's whole body tensed. The way that the man's eyes were slowly narrowing in anger, if only to hide the fear that also appeared…as it was Owen doesn't notice. That is not until Jack is grabbing him roughly by the front of his shirt.

"I said stop it!" Jack screams in his face and the pencil falls from Owen's hand as he stares up at the older man.

Jack's eyes are wild, almost animal, and for once Owen finds himself without his voice.

Then just as suddenly as the emotion had come it was gone and Jack deflates noticeably, letting go of Owen.

"I'm sorry…I just," Jack runs a hand through his hair and all at once he looks his age, ancient and forever. "You know what never mind, I'll just leave. Tap to your heart's content."

Owen watches the man swagger away, but this time he's watching closely. The steps are too tense, he notices, the shoulders too tight, like an animal waiting to flee

He frowns and looks down at the pencil, before picking it up and tapping gently as Jack walks away.

_ One, two, three, four._

_One, two, three, four._

The walk becomes faster, like Jack wants to run, but won't.

_One, two, three—_

Owen stops his act of defiance rapidly and gently he sets the pencil down on the desk.

Jack's body relaxes visibly, Owen pretends not to notice.

* * *

><p><strong>Martha<strong>

When Martha comes back, she comes back different and everyone notices, but they don't say anything, that's okay she doesn't want them too.

…

Martha screams loudly as hands fall upon her, ripping her out of her restless sleep and striking fear into her heart.

Desperately blindly she searches for the gun she carries, but it's not there, of course it's not there, she lost it during the fires of Japan.

Someone's yelling at her, telling her to calm down, but she isn't listening. Instead she grabs one of the hands holding her and bites down on it, _hard._

There's a cry of shock and someone swears, but she's already on her feet, running for the door, desperately struggling against whatever has been wrapped around her ankles.

"Stop her!" Someone yells and she screams, struggling as more hands fall upon her.

"Let me go!" She screams, "Let me go!" And to her surprise the hands retreat and she scrambles out the door, trying to find the vortex manipulator in her pockets, it's _not _there.

She's panicking, truly panicking, that is until someone desperately says her name, "Martha, sweetheart calm down please. You're scaring us."

Martha blinks, "Mum?" She asks, "Mum, what are you—?" She trails off her eyes taking in her surroundings.

They're in a room, a _nice _room, nothing like the shabby apartments that refuges were staying in. She blinks, and her Mum's in front of her, eyes wide and worried, behind her Martha's Father is cradling his hand as Tish looks wide eyed at her sister. She looks down and notices that the thing wrapped around her feet is simply a blanket.

"I-I-I don't understand, how did you—?" She stops as memories come rushing down and she looks at the floor. "Oh, right, we're um, we're home."

"Yes we're home, and we're safe," Her mother says softly, daring to touch her daughter's cheek. Martha flinches away from the touch and the hand drops awkwardly to her Mother's side.

"I'm sorry," Martha mutters. "I'm so sorry, I just, I just thought that—"Her eyes are filling with tears, but she's trying to compose herself. Crying takes up energy, she can't waste energy on crying, not when there's so many people to save.

"Martha, it's okay, we're okay, we're safe," her Mother looks like all she wants to do is hug her daughter, but she doesn't, a part of Martha is thankful.

"I know," Martha tells her. "I know, it will be okay, I just need time, okay?"

"If you're sure."

"I am."

Her Mum doesn't look convince, but nods, motioning for the others to follow her out.

Martha stops her father and gestures at his hand, "you need to clean that, Mum or Tish can help. Tell them that they need to use—."

"I'll be fine Martha, we'll all be fine," her Dad smiles, but it's empty, sad. "We can manage."

"…Yeah, I know."

They leave, listening as Martha cries, they pretend not to hear.

* * *

><p><strong>The Doctor<strong>

When the Doctor comes back no one stays around long enough to notice that he's different, he's alone again, and he really isn't all that surprise.

…

After he gets back from the Titanic the Doctor's mask falls rapidly, breaking and shattering to match his soul. He screams and rants, throwing things to the floor of the TARDIS.

It isn't fair! It isn't _fair!_

Soon though the screams form into sobs and he collapses to the floor as all the hatred burns out of him.

He doesn't understand why the universe can't just leave him alone, why it can't just give him something good for once, because he's tired, he's so tired.

Tired of the good-byes, of the quietness, of the emptiness, he's tired of being alone, because it _hurts._

It hurts just as much as he remembers, the emptiness, the terrible knowledge of knowing that he's, once again, the last of the time lords, the feeling of guilt as he realizes that it's his fault.

He should've noticed her, he should've been looking out for weapons, because of course someone would want to shoot The Master, he should've protected _him_, but he hadn't.

He hasn't been able to protect those he cares about in a long time and he tries, he really does, but he just can't.

He couldn't protect Jack or Martha, or the Master.

He couldn't protect Bannakaffalatta, or Astrid, or any of the others, he can't protect anyone anymore.

Sometimes he doesn't know why he keeps trying, why he keeps believing that this time would be different, or the next time, or maybe the time after that, because it never is.

He always ends up alone, with only his own demons for company, he hates it.

The emptiness, the quietness, he just hates being alone, he hates having no one to impress, to show the stars to, the love, to hate, to cherish in a way one can only cherish another living being.

Then softly there's a small nudging in the back of his mind, a gentle wave of comfort and he smiles a bit through the pain. She's still with him, she's always with him and a part of him thinks that he couldn't get away from her even if he tried.

Standing slowly, he wipes a hand over his face and forces a smile to replace the tears.

"Right Old Girl," he speaks softly into the emptiness. "Let's see what trouble we have waiting for us next?"

There's a soft hum and he pulls a lever, sending them into the vortex and away from Earth.

The Doctor pretends that his pains are also as easily left behind.

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><p><strong>And there we have it, while the original drabble only focused on Jack Shadowntr wanted something that had all three of them dealing with the aftermath so that's what I wrote<strong>

**The reason that the Doctor's part is after _The Voyage of the Damned _is due to the fact that the ending from _The Last of the Time Lords_ leads directly into it. **

**Jack's part takes place after _Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang _because that's when he first sees his team after the Year That Never Was  
><strong>

**And there we have it lots of angst and PTSD and other fun stuff...**

**(Quick Note: I have never seen Torchwood if Owen seems OOC I apologize, I did the best I could with what I had)**

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><p><strong>Please Review<strong>


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